


lying (and other compromises)

by everytuesday



Series: monster!quentin [1]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Monster!Quentin, Season 4 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-08 02:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19862005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everytuesday/pseuds/everytuesday
Summary: Quentin is possessed by the Monster. Ted Coldwater is dying. Eliot and Julia are doing their best.---What occurs to Eliot then is possibly the most morbid idea he’s ever had. Julia won’t like it, but he’s-- albeit deliriously-- proud of himself for the levels of pragmatism he’s reaching about the whole situation. They’re a balancing act now: Julia with the moral compass and Eliot with the roadmap straight to hell if it means getting Quentin back.He walks back to the Monster and switches off the TV, which immediately sets the Monster off. It gets off the couch and glares, makes Quentin’s 5’8” frame entirely too intimidating, and hisses, “I wasn’t done.”Eliot is nothing if not a world-class bullshitter and turning on the charm for a Monster with barely any concept of social cues is child’s play. He could get the Monster to eat out of his hand, if he tried hard enough. He pushes down the bile in his throat and smiles big, inviting, “I’ve got something better than TV; I’ve got a game we can play. It’s called the Quentin Game.”





	lying (and other compromises)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [milominderbinder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/milominderbinder/gifts), [timelykey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelykey/gifts), [TrickyMxtape](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrickyMxtape/gifts), [margosfairyeye (Skittery)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skittery/gifts).



Eliot recalls being assigned babysitting duty for his nieces and nephews only a handful of times due to his utter lack of effort. It wasn’t that he didn’t like kids or wasn’t good with kids, it was more that these kids in particular were a sneak preview of what his inevitable life would be if he didn’t get the fuck out. Being sixteen, he wasn’t always able to see the light at the end of the tunnel, so his time around the kids mostly consisted of ignoring them until they went away. Eventually he did get the fuck out and thus ended his babysitting career.

Until the Monster.

If you ignore the Monster until it goes away, someone ends up dead, so Eliot and Julia split the task of staying with it between them. It’s not an even split; Julia’s got the brains to actually solve the whole thing, which means Eliot takes on the majority of quality time with the thing wearing Quentin’s body.

The Monster walks and talks around Eliot in strange ways that sometimes feel like Quentin bleeding through. It lets its hair hang messy in its face or talks quickly while making big gestures. But it makes too much eye contact to be Quentin, carries itself a little too confidently, and has a piercing stare that makes Eliot want to look away.

Even so, Eliot almost forgets, sometimes, and will reach out an arm to casually drape around Quentin, touch his shoulder, or grab for his hand. Despite the constant mental reminders that _it’s not Quentin, it’s not Quentin, it’s not Quentin,_ his muscle memory doesn’t understand that. The Monster seems pleased at Eliot’s apparent comfort around it and leans into every touch and smiles its creepy smile at him.

It’s a relief when the Monster discovers Netflix and starts binging _Black Mirror_ with far too much interest for an eldritch abomination that has a rusty at-best grasp of using a cell phone, let alone a coherent understanding of the implications of a technology-reliant world. It’s a good distraction and for once it’s trusting that Julia is doing her best to help find its missing pieces.

“Eliot?” Julia calls from the doorway, phone clasped in hand, and reels a bit at the sight of the Monster sprawled out on the couch, head in Eliot’s lap. Eliot ignores the concern in her eye and starts to get up, moving the Monster’s-- Quentin’s-- head gently to a pillow. The Monster tugs half-heartedly on his arm and for a moment Eliot wonders if it’s going to allow him to leave the room.

“I’ll be right back,” Eliot says softly and the Monster drops its arm to swing off the couch and pouts at Eliot.

But it lets Eliot follow Julia into the hall.

She’s still got that concerned expression, only now it’s _prompting_ , expecting him to say something. Eliot rubs his eyes, annoyed, “Don’t look at me like that; it’s this or it starts murdering people.”

“Are you okay?” she asks. Eliot laughs harshly at her, but she’s undeterred, “We’re in this together so the least we can do is look after each other and I don’t want it hurting you.”

Eliot wants to laugh at her again, but it would be cruel and Julia is trying to help even if her priorities aren’t attainable in their actual reality. “Not getting hurt” was a point on the map they passed hundreds of miles ago, when the Monster slaughtered half the food vendors they came in contact with for a week, when he snapped Eliot’s arm the first time, when he made Nigel kill that fucking piglet.

Instead, he asks, “What did you want?”

Julia looks down at her phone, biting her lip before looking back up at him, “It’s Q’s dad.”

“Shit,” Eliot hisses. He looks back at the Monster, now sitting up and pouting in Eliot’s absence, childlike and as not-Quentin as possible.

“He’s been moved to hospice, but they don’t think he’ll last more than a day or two. I told his mom that Q was out, but I don’t-- I don’t know what to do. The truth isn’t an option but I don’t want Ted to die thinking Q just abandoned him.”

What occurs to Eliot then is possibly the most morbid idea he’s ever had. Julia won’t like it, but he’s-- albeit deliriously-- proud of himself for the levels of pragmatism he’s reaching about the whole situation. They’re a balancing act now: Julia with the moral compass and Eliot with the roadmap straight to hell if it means getting Quentin back.

He walks back to the Monster and switches off the TV, which immediately sets the Monster off. It gets off the couch and glares, makes Quentin’s 5’8” frame entirely too intimidating, and hisses, “I wasn’t done.”

Eliot is nothing if not a world-class bullshitter and turning on the charm for a Monster with barely any concept of social cues is child’s play. He could get the Monster to eat out of his hand, if he tried hard enough. He pushes down the bile in his throat and smiles big, inviting, “I’ve got something better than TV; I’ve got a game we can play. It’s called the Quentin Game.”

The Monster narrows its eyes at Eliot. “The Quentin Game?”

“Yes,” Eliot says brightly, “The body that you’re using. His name is Quentin, you remember that, right?”

“How could I forget?” the Monster rolls its eyes. “It’s the only thing you actually care about. You don’t care about me.”

“That’s not true,” Eliot says, full charm on now. He can feel Julia’s piercing gaze on his back. “But I still think this game would be fun to play. You haven’t had this body for very long, but he had it for a long time. You could see how he used it.”

“Eliot, what the fuck?” Julia breathes behind him, horrified.

“Pretend to be Quentin,” Eliot finishes. “I’ll help you.”

The Monster tilts its head, blinking a few times. “The Quentin Game,” it repeats thoughtfully.

Eliot nods and then feels Julia’s hand on his arm, dragging him backward out into the hall again, because she’s got to be all compass-y about it.

“You are not seriously thinking of taking the Monster to see Ted.”

“It’s what Quentin would want.”

“It is _not_ what Quentin would want. It might be the most fucked up thing that’s happened since this started and that’s _saying_ something.”

“What other options do you see?” Eliot spreads his arms, inviting her to give him another answer. “Quentin can’t be here, so either we let Ted die alone or we give him a glimpse of his son and he’ll be so hopped up on morphine he won’t even be able to tell the difference.”

“Jesus, El,” Julia closes her eyes.

“Tell me there’s a better plan.”

She wants to, he can see it in her eyes, the searching, desperate look as she tries coming up with something that doesn’t end in Ted dying alone, but she can’t. She lets out a little, deflated sigh and shakes her head.

Eliot re-enters the living room with the Monster, returning to the facade and clapping his hands together, “So, the Quentin Game.”

“How does it go?” the Monster asks, settling back onto the couch and fixated on Eliot. Curious, but trying to hide it.

“You have to be really good at it or it won’t work,” Eliot says. “We’re going to fool people into thinking you’re Quentin. That’s a type of game people play sometimes, fooling people into thinking you’re someone that you’re not. It’s called acting.”

“Act-ing.”

“So you’ll pretend you’re Quentin and I’ll start calling you Quentin, just for a little while,” Eliot says. “And we’ll practice walking and talking and--”

“When you sit,” Julia says, coming to stand next to Eliot, “you should tuck one of your legs up.”

The Monster looks at Eliot for approval, wanting to know if Julia is also playing the game now. Eliot nods and it draws one leg to his chest and rests its foot on the couch.

“Like that,” Julia says. “Yeah.”

“Hunch your shoulders a little bit,” Eliot suggests.

When it does, Eliot almost has to look away. Julia’s hand finds his shoulder and he remembers this is why they’re still doing this together.

“That’s perfect,” Eliot manages around the lump in his throat. “Let’s talk about talking.”

And on it goes. Between the two of them, they’ve known Quentin for seven decades and he thinks they’ve got the best judgement out of anyone as to what will pass off as Quentin. Certainly better than a bedridden Ted with pain killers pumping through his system.

The Monster seems to soak up the praise whenever Eliot tells it that its doing a good job. But it _is_ doing good. As it’s getting to the point where it’s almost enough to fool them, they decide it’s time for a test run.

If Eliot still had limits, using Todd as Monster bait would push them. He promises to buy the Monster Starbucks afterward if it promises not to kill Todd and it agrees and that’s good enough for Eliot. Its love of frappucinos seems to possibly outweigh its love for murder.

It has a whole stilted conversation with Todd that ends in Todd very quietly asking the Monster if Eliot and Julia are okay (“They’ve been staring at us, like, this whole time and it’s kind of creeping me out.”). He seems to have no comprehension that the problem is Quentin not being Quentin, so they call it a success.

“We could try Fogg,” Eliot says, watching the Monster tear the lid off the Starbucks cup and proceed to get whipped cream over its nose as it chugs it.

“Or we could stop,” Julia counters. “We don’t have to go any further. Think about what happens if we get Q back--”

“When,” Eliot says.

“Eliot, it’s been _months_. We don’t even know if he’s still--”

“He’s alive. There’s too much bleed-through, too much Quentin in the Monster. You’re not _with_ him all the time, but I see it. He’s still in there, Julia. I heard it humming Taylor Swift the other day and neither of us--”

“Eliot.”

“Even if-- and he’s not-- but if he was gone, then all the more reason to keep his dad from knowing it.”

Julia looks on the verge of arguing further, but she holds whatever it is back and walks out.

They rent a car and Eliot drives them to New Jersey, prepping the Monster on the way for the next level of the Quentin Game. Eliot remembers when his mom died and Julia remembers her grandparents’ deaths and between the two of them they string together a collection of phrases for the Monster to have on hand like “I’m sorry” and “I love you” and “It’s going to be okay.” The Monster practices them carefully on the drive, managing an imitation of sincerity that they both agree is good enough.

Grief makes people weird anyway, they justify it. Quentin sounding a little stilted talking to or about his dying father is perfectly reasonable.

As they pull up in the driveway, Eliot thinks of _their_ Ted -- little Teddy-- and has to work to fight down the emotions that always come with vague recollections from the mosaic timeline. He’s never met his son’s namesake. Quentin told plenty of stories about Ted and always spoke so fondly of his father that Eliot has come to assume Ted is the rarest of all cryptids: a _good_ dad.

He wishes absently he could tell Ted who he is to Quentin, except he doesn’t know what that is. Friend? Best friend? Life partner in another timeline?

He shakes himself and walks with Julia and the Monster into the house. Quentin’s mom is there and Eliot already dislikes her, but meeting her just cements that. She has a _vibe_ Eliot immediately dislikes. She hugs the Monster and the Monster hugs her back, a little stiffly but doing its best.

 _Mom_ , Eliot mouths and the Monster nods.

“Hi Mom,” the Monster says when Quentin’s mother pulls back to look at him.

“Oh, Q,” she hugs him again.

The Monster looks impatiently at Eliot over her shoulder. Eliot gestures for it to wait.

“I’m-- Um,” she steps back again, wiping her eyes. “I’ve been here since yesterday, so I’m going to step out to grab some coffee and stretch my legs for a bit. He’s right through there,” she gestures through to the doorway.

She pauses to hug Julia on the way out, there’s a brief, whispered conversation between them, and then she disappears out the door. Eliot and Julia exchange looks. Both motion for the Monster to walk ahead.

The Monster hunches its shoulders and shuffles through the doorway, sees Ted in bed and casts a concerned look at Eliot and Julia.

Eliot can feel Julia tense beside him. He doesn’t have much to compare to, but Ted Coldwater looks awful. Pale and tired, dark circles under his eyes.

“Hey, Curly Q,” Ted says.

“Hey, Dad,” the Monster greets and moves to his side, giving Ted a careful hug as Eliot and Julia had instructed him.

Eliot glances at Julia, gives her a _You okay?_ look and she nods and makes her way to Ted’s side.

“Hey, Mr. C,” she says, giving him a small smile and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“It’s good of you to be here for Q,” Ted says. He looks apologetically at the Monster. “I’m glad you came, but I-- I wish you didn’t have to see me like this.”

“It’s going to be alright, Dad,” the Monster says, perfectly rehearsed, then looks back to Eliot for approval. Ted follows his gaze to Eliot.

“We haven’t met,” Eliot says, stepping forward. “I’m Eliot, I’m-- a friend.”

Ted has a strange, knowing sparkle in his eye and Eliot wishes Quentin was really here and Ted was fine and this was some awkward family dinner Eliot was crashing and not-- Not this. Eliot feels guilty, which he didn’t know he could still feel. It’s _almost_ reassuring that he hasn’t lost it completely.

“I’m glad Q has people who care about him,” Ted says. He looks at Quentin. “I’m not going to be very good company. It’s mostly just headaches and naps lately.”

“That’s okay,” Julia says, before the Monster tries to respond. “We can just sit here with you for awhile.”

Julia rehearsed a few childhood stories with the Monster, gave him just the right parts to fill in, and together they recall a few of them for Ted. Ted’s face lights up as he listens, until partway through Julia’s third story when he starts to drift off. Julia stops once he’s fully dozed off, adjusts the blankets on Ted’s bed, and then settles back in her chair with an exhausted sigh. The Monster sits Quentin-esque in its own chair, frowning, staring at Ted too intently.

“Why are just sitting here waiting for him to die?”

“Quentin,” Eliot says, looking dead-on at the Monster, shaking his head.

“No, enough with the Quentin Game,” the Monster snaps. “It isn’t fun anymore. This is _weird_. He’s in pain and he’s dying, why doesn’t someone end it? He doesn’t hurt, so we don’t hurt. Problem over and we can all stop being sad.”

“People don’t stop being said just because it’s over,” Julia says. “There’s-- grief. There’s a process to it. We stay sad, for a long time. Eliot thinks there’s still Quentin in you and that he’s bleeding through and if that’s true, then you have to feel something. Can’t you _feel_ it?”

The Monster frowns. It looks back at Ted, then shakes its head and gets up. It doesn’t leave, but it paces up and down the small room like a caged animal, agitated

“I don’t like looking at him. There’s pain _here_ when I do,” it taps its chest with its finger. “And here--” It taps its throat. “It’s like…” It rubs at its eyes now. “I don’t _understand_.”

It’s Quentin. It has to be Quentin getting through, or at least some of his emotions. Eliot looks at Julia, but she’s transfixed by the Monster.

“Come here,” she says, reaching out to catch onto his sleeve, pulling him toward her. The Monster lets itself be drawn in and Julia gets her arms around it, whispering, “It’s okay, Q.”

The Monster paws at her arm, shakes its head a little, but then stills and Julia holds it for a long moment.

When she finally lets go, she turns quickly away from the Monster, toward Eliot, so it doesn’t see the tears in her eyes.

Ted doesn’t wake up again while they’re visiting, stays asleep for hours until Quentin’s mom comes back and Eliot and Julia both agree it’s past time they should leave. Quentin’s mom thanks them for stopping by, quiet and sad, gives all three of them hugs, and then lets them go on their way.

They get back to the apartment in one piece. Julia excuses herself to her room immediately, but Eliot doesn’t even make it that far. He falls face-first into the couch and doesn’t move. The Monster leaves him be, for once, and Eliot’s grateful. Sleep is impossible these days, but he manages to close his eyes for a few minutes and breathe.

They did it. It’s over. Quentin’s dad saw him one last time and was happy to see them and doesn’t know the truth of what happened to his son. Quentin would be okay with that. Quentin would be glad that his dad wasn’t alone.

“Eliot?”

Eliot opens his eyes and Quentin is right there, hovering above the couch, eyes wide. It feels like Quentin. Looks like Quentin; he can’t really explain it, just--

“El, it’s me. I got out.” It’s _him_. It’s in his eyes; it looks right this time when it never did with the Monster. Eliot sits up and Quentin sits down next to him, leans in, and--

kisses him.

Which isn’t at all what Eliot expected, but it’s not bad, it’s-- Eliot reaches to touch his face, fighting back tears, “Missed you.”

Quentin pulls away, smiles a crooked smile, and whispers, “I like the Quentin Game.”

Eliot freezes. Then shoves back, hard, but the Monster stays pressed into Eliot’s side. Eliot can still feel its breath on him and it’s too fucking _close_.

“We’re not playing the Quentin Game anymore,” Eliot says. He can’t put any charm into it, but he can at least keep the panic out. He hopes it doesn’t sound panicked, although he’s sure the Monster can hear his heart pounding. “It was only the one time, just for Q’s dad.”

“But I like the Quentin Game when I play it with you,” the Monster pouts. “And you did too. Your face did that thing-- The smile thing. You were _happy_.”

“But it was a lie.”

“Why is it okay to lie to Quentin’s dad but not okay to lie to you? That’s _confusing_ , Eliot,” it wrinkles its nose at him.

“Because Quentin’s dad was dying and we were trying to bring a little comfort to him. But I _know better_.”

“You didn’t though,” the Monster says, sing-songy and delighted with itself. “I fooled you.”

“Please get away from me.”

The Monster pushes itself off the couch and Eliot lets out a relieved gasp, breath hitching, struggling to keep his emotions in check enough to--

A hand clamps around Eliot’s throat, hard enough to bruise, and drags him off the couch. His head spins as his knees hit the floor and the Monster’s scowl clouds over his vision, “This isn’t _fun_ anymore. You’re boring me and the other one-- _Julia_ \-- is taking too long to find all the pieces.”

Eliot grabs at the Monster’s wrist, trying to relieve some of the pressure from his throat, but the Monster doesn’t let up and seems to squeeze tighter.

“Hey!” Julia’s voice pierces through the fog. “Let him go!”

The Monster’s hands disappear and Eliot collapses onto the ground, trying to steady himself. The Monster says something he doesn’t catch over his head, something to Julia, and she says something back. And then it’s gone and she’s kneeling on the floor next to him, hand on his shoulder again.

“What happened? What did he do to you?”

Eliot wipes his mouth and falls back, eyes wide.

“He pretend to be Quentin,” Eliot says. “And I didn’t realize it was him, I thought somehow that maybe-- I was so _stupid_.”

“What _happened_?” Julia presses.

Eliot can’t look at her. “It kissed me.”

“Oh,” Julia says very quietly and his fingers on his shoulder tighten. “You and Quentin were-- You were something, weren’t you?”

Eliot nods, still not looking at her. “Something.”

“I know a thing or two about being hurt by someone wearing the face of someone you love. I’m sorry, Eliot.”

She does, doesn’t she? _Jesus_. Eliot forgets sometimes how much Julia’s been through. She opens her mouth to say something else, but the Monster wanders back into the room, swaying as it stands and glaring at them.

“Are you done yet?”

“No,” Eliot says thickly. “Go away.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t like the Quentin Game,” the Monster says, slowly, like Eliot’s very stupid. “But you’re not getting Quentin back because he’s dead. It’s just me now.”

Oh.

Julia’s hand falls limply off his shoulder and she goes completely still.

The floor falls out from under Eliot and reality itself alters. New priorities, new roadmap to hell, but this one is just _kill the Monster, kill the Monster, kill the fucking thing that killed--_

Killed Quentin.

Because Quentin is dead. If the Monster is telling the truth which Eliot suddenly isn’t so sure of.

“Go be sad for ‘a long time’ however long that is and when you’re done I’ll be here,” the Monster’s voice carries over to him. “But please hurry, I’m bored.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is literally the result of a bunch of headcanons and theorizing in the queliot writers discord server (I gifted the work to everyone involved in the discussion) so HUGE credit to them for coming up with various tidbits.
> 
> there are three parts to this loosely planned out in my head, though pretty separate from each other except for being in the same monster!quentin au storyline. so those will pop up eventually. hopefully.


End file.
